


Outcasts

by WalkingOutOfTime



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23510593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkingOutOfTime/pseuds/WalkingOutOfTime
Summary: How easy is it to kill a King?Infiltrate the castle, catch him while no one's looking, escape, get away with it, live.But what happens when you have what the King doesn't know he needs?What happens when you fall in love with his son?What happens when the enemy might be the only person that can save everyone?What happens when the enemy isn't the enemy at all?
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ken_Doll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ken_Doll/gifts).

The shallow cave is empty except for a trembling figure who’s bloodshot eyes dart around the darkening area. The elongated shadows of trees writhe, distorting before her eyes. Hugging her knees close to her chest, she shivers. Another night is coming.

* * *

The sounds of hooves thudding across the rumbling ground spread fear across the village as horses tear through the barren land. But the company doesn’t stop; their destination is elsewhere. Only until they’ve powered through forests, climbed over mountains and waded through water do they stop.

The leading rider holds up a hand and the group stops dead. The horses whinny and stamp their hooves into the ground, not used to being still again.

“Eliaste,” a neighbouring rider says, watching the leader carefully. “What are we meant to do now?”

“Patience,” the leader - Eliaste - says, a higher voice giving away her identity. Only her eyes are visible - such a stunning blue - the rest of her face is covered by a black, tattered bandanna. “She will meet us here,”

The man grumbles and Eliaste turns her head to him, her eyes narrowing. “Have you something to say to my face? You dare doubt her?”

Gulping, the man steadies his horse. “…No, ma’am,” he looks warily at the sword at Eliaste’s belt, knowing how quickly it could be wielded; his life, ended.

Down a mossy hill sprinkled with great trees old as time itself, a tiny burst of Byzantium purple flame appears.

With a hidden smile, Eliaste lowers her hand. “This way,” she commands, kicking her rose grey mare into a canter. The assembly kick their horses and follow suit, each person and their steed plunging into the treacherous woods.

Treading cautiously, Eliaste’s bright blue eyes pierce the dark undergrowth, searching for any sign of unwanted guests and a new clue. A few metres away, almost hidden behind a tree, another purple flame appears, darker this time. Eliaste signals to her group and they go towards it, leaving the sound of snapping branches and rustling leaves in their wake.

One final flame - almost black now - appears, in the middle of the path. Just as Eliaste and the riders meet it, it disappears.

The riders shift in their saddles. “What now?”

But underneath her bandanna, Eliaste is grinning. “She is here,” is all she says, looking around, alert. Before people could tell her she’s crazy, the big, wide tree next to her begins to shimmer, as if you couldn’t see right. The leaves began to sparkle just a bit more than simple sunlight spots, and then the whole tree rippled, purple light travelling down the dark trunk. And then it opens.

The riders stare at it. “This is the place?” A voice says skeptically. “Where’s the witch going to have us next, inside a pebble?”

“Do you wish to cut off your tongue, Pellid?” a young man scolds, flattening his tunic. He watches Eliaste carefully. “Keep it inside of your shut mouth or it will be done for you,”

“Follow me,” Eliaste says. She nods at the boy who flashes her a smile.

The tree isn’t a tree at all. As they walk further in, a corridor extends itself and they travel further underground, the party of horse hooves silent against the moist soil. Purple torches line the woody walls, their flames licking at the riders as they pass, trying not to shiver.

Eliaste jumps off her horse and walks into a circular room. Upon seeing a figure, she inclines her head, a hand on her hilt. “My lady,”

A woman with long, black hair turns around and her severe face splits into a smile. “Eliaste, you made it,”

“Of course,” Sliding off her bandanna, Eliaste walks closer. “Your flames worked,”

“Did they?” Delighted, the woman cups her face. “Oh, that does make me glad. I thought…” she looks at Eliaste, worried. “Did you ever think that it wouldn’t work and I would have left you to die in that forest?”

“Never,” Eliaste says firmly, reaching out to grab the woman’s hand gently. “I trust you with my life, Lyone,”

“I wish it didn’t have to come to that,” Lyone looks down.

“In our line of work? I’m afraid that’s wishful thinking, my lady,” Eliaste laughs, drawing a chuckle from the sorceress. She begins pacing around the round table with various vials, jars and pots spread across it. “My men are weary, I assume their wounds are being tended to?”

“As we speak,” Lyone nods and tucks her hair behind her ear, her long sleeve falling down her arm.

Eliaste refrains from biting her lip. “Somehow, my lady, defying all odds, you have still gotten more beautiful since the last time I saw you but a few mornings ago,”

“You flatter me, darling Eliaste,” Lyone smiles, moving over to the table and picking leaves off a branch, sprinkling them into a jar full of thick liquid. “I could say the same for you,”

Leaning against the wall, Eliaste laughs quietly. “But where I am known for my fierceness in battle, you are no doubt known for your unparalleled beauty,”

“And not for the Kings I’ve killed with my magic?” Lyone asks innocently, turning around to face the warrior who laughs again.

“Dare I say your beauty surpasses that of your magical skills?”

“Hmm,” Lyone’s eyes crinkle as she smiles, hovering just out of reach.

Eliaste shakes her hair out of it’s knot, and it falls down her leather armour in dirt-streaked, blonde curls. “Are you really going to tease me so, my lady?” She says.

Lyone’s eyes sparkle. “Whatever are you talking about, my fierce warrior?” She gently wipes away some grime off Eliaste’s face, though her attempts hardly have any effect.

“You wound me, Lyone,” Eliaste mock-groans, leaning back against the wall. “After a long day of bloodbath I come home to you and yet the torment doesn’t end,”

“Well, I’d so hate for you to suffer by my hand,” Lyone says softly, cupping the warrior’s face with her hands.

“I would suffer today, tomorrow and always if it meant I could see you again,” Eliaste whispers.

“Always the dramatic,” Lyone says before kissing Eliaste with soft, smiling lips.


	2. Chapter 2

“Your Majesty,” the man kneels in front of the throne, feeling the harsh gaze of nobles and knights impale him like the swords they all carry. He is hyper aware of every single tear in his tunic, the holes in his shoes and dread that when he stands up he’ll leave half the dirt that’s plastered to him behind on the clean, marble floor. As if he wasn’t enough of an embarrassment already.

“What is your name, good sir,” the King asks, though it’s less of a question and more of a command. His voice is deep and rough.

“Geflet, Your Majesty,” the man says, praying that his voice doesn’t betray his fear. “Geflet Ladver from the outlying village of Pictose, sir,”

“What is your business here?”

Geflet can’t help but flinch. “Your Majesty…” before he walked in the door, he vowed not to beg and to stand his ground. Kneeling before the powerful King, Geflet feels his confidence slipping away as if trying to catch a water eel with his bare hands. “I wish to ask a favour,”

“And?”

Biting down on his cheek very hard in attempt to try and stop his hands from shaking, Geflet’s eyes remain glued to the spotless floor. “I wish to be accompanied by knights to travel into the Forest so that I may find-“

“You wish to take my knights?” The King interrupts, his words like a mace to the chest.

Geflet winces. “Yes, Your Ma-“

“Are you aware of the crisis our Kingdom is currently in?” He demands, his fists gripped around the arms of the throne.

“Yes, Your-“

“We are facing threats from our most feared enemy who have magic on their side, and you tell me that you - a mere peasant - want to take my knights for your own selfish reasons?” The old King’s voice thunders around the large room.

Geflet decides not to bring up that the King wants the knights for his own selfish reasons of wanting to stay alive. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but everyone knows how treacherous the Forest can be-“

“No. That is my final verdict.”

Looking up for just one second, Geflet sees the man’s cruel eyes.

“Leave my presence, now.” The King dismisses, turning back around. He glares at the guards. “Make sure he sees himself out,”

As Geflet shuffles out of the room a guard puts his hands on his forearm but Geflet is too nervous to shake him off. Just before the big doors are closed behind him, he mumbles a thank you. Now alone in the wide corridor, he sighs, annoyance colouring his breathy voice. _Could have gone better. Could have gone worse. _He stands still for a moment, a little overwhelmed about how far he’s travelled only to be kicked out again. Upon hearing the doors behind him open again, Geflet hurries down the corridor so that no guard can tell him he’s not welcome again.

“Wait, sir!”

Dread filling his entire body, Geflet slowly turns around. But what he sees he doesn’t quite understand.

The young crown prince jogs down the hall. He carries no weapon. “My good sir, I’m very sorry for my Father,”

Not knowing what to do, Geflet just shakes his head.

The prince shakes his head as well. “He is… often blinded by his will to be just and doesn’t see opportunities when they arise,”

“Opportunities? Your Highness,” Geflet quickly adds.

“Please, come with me,”

The big door opens again and the court looks up as the prince strides into the room, a slightly less well-dressed man by his side.

“What is the meaning of this?” The King says, furrowing his eyebrows at Geflet. “Why have you returned against my orders?”

“He’s with me, Father,” The Prince says, staring up at him.

“Laulain,” the King growls. “What is your intention?”

The Prince - Laulain - kneels before his father. “This man has said he wishes to venture into the forest, my King,”

“I heard what he said,”

Laulain looks up. “We have plans to do the same but are unable to spare men,”

The King looks thoughtful as he strokes his chin, his eyebrows nonetheless furrowed.

Geflet looks from the Prince to the King, mystified. _What on earth is happening?_

“Mr…”

“Oh, um, Ladver, Your Majesty,” Geflet supplies.

The King nods. “Mr Ladver. You could be of use to us, if you are willing,”

Pursing his lips, Geflet looks down. “I-I did say I’d venture into the forest but only _with_ people who are trained with weapons…”

The King squints and Geflet starts to sweat.

“…Your Majesty, I mean…”

“If you undertake this quest you will be paid handsomely,”

“I’ll do whatever you want,”

* * *

Heels digging into the ground, the figure grips the side of the cave wall. “Go away,” she growls, looking at the middle of the shelter.

A glowing child stands there, blue-white light radiating off his skin. His clothes are in tatters, as if they had been smouldering. His eyes wide and unseeing, he stares at the woman who tries to control her shaking.

“Stop it,” she puts her hands over her ears, scrunching her eyes together.

Anyone looking in would see the woman cowering against the wall, alone in her cave.


	3. Chapter 3

Eliaste scans the steadily forming crowd in their underground hideout, approval in her eyes.

“Are you ready, my love?” Lyone says from beside her, fiddling with some rings on her fingers. “They’re waiting for you,”

Nodding, the warrior steps up onto a pedestal and the whole room falls silent. She stares out at them, analysing their facial expressions, their wounds, their stance. “My loyal fighters. Many years have we been together in our travels. Many years have I brought you to battle and emerged victorious each and every time. For many years have you remained by my side, wilfully obeying the orders your leader sets out for you. On this day, I thank you,”

Lyone smiles to herself. Eliaste knows how to make a speech and she knows how to make a good one. She can always rile people up when hope is lost.

People in the audience are nodding, some even have smiles on their weary faces.

“I know you will do me proud…” Eliaste begins, not knowing how her people will take the upcoming information. “I know you will do me proud when we storm King Esclane’s castle when the time comes,”

Voices break out. This is the first they’re hearing of it, and it’s received with unease, told by the unrestful chatter circulating the people.

“You are not required as of yet,” Eliaste continues, rubbing her thumb over the band on her finger. “Lady Lyone and I have been planning, and you will all come in at the later stage. For now, continue training hard. This isn’t going to be an easy quest,”

“Got that right,” someone to her left chuckles.

Eliaste turns around, eyebrows furrowed, before realising who it is. The boy from before winks at her. “Relax, El. You wouldn’t hurt your dear little brother, would you?”

“Not unless you give me a good reason, Rielle,”

He laughs nervously. “Noted,”

* * *

“‘Quest’, yeah right,” Geflet mutters, whacking away a branch with his hand that holds the flimsiest sword he’s ever seen. _“’Go into the super dangerous forest and find a person we haven’t seen in years,’”_

A stick snaps and he jumps, looking over to the bush. After holding his breath for a few seconds, Geflet exhales and continues walking. “Bloody hell. What are they gonna do if I don’t make it out alive?” Lowering his voice, he mocks the King. _“‘You will be paid handsomely and awarded as seen fit,’” _Not to disrespect the King or anything, but if he didn’t trust his own knights to venture into the forest why would he trust the first peasant he comes across? Geflet is the only one who would ever actually go into the forest - all the superstition around it prevents anyone from even approaching its borders.

And now Geflet is trekking through it in the middle of the day, only a second-hand sword and a pathetic ration of food. When he had asked how long the trip will last, they never answered him.

But one knight had whispered to him as he passed. _“The length of your journey depends on what you encounter. God speed.”_

A comforting thought.

Geflet readjusts his grip on the decrepit sword. He feels the blade shift around, loose in the hilt, and genuinely doubts whether or not it would survive a simple unsheathing, let alone be able to protect him.

Feeling like he should probably be at least a little bit more afraid, Geflet looks through his tightly-woven bag that he’s carried with him every time he’s gone on a trip. _Carrots, loose paper, rope, a singular apple, spare clothes-_

The echoing sound of a rock skidding across rock sends chills up Geflet’s body. His knuckles turning white with how hard he’s gripping the sword, he freezes to the spot, his worn-down shoes disturbing the surrounding soil. “Hello?”

* * *

There is a person. On top of a fallen log, the figure holds her rocks to her chest, ready to throw at any slight movement. Taking a step backwards, she doesn’t realise that the log has ended. In her attempt to stop herself from slipping down, she drops a rock.

“Hello?”

The voice. It’s deeper than hers. She can’t see him. _Intruder_.

“Is anyone there?”

_Smart one, this one_, she says sarcastically in her head, squinting. Finally, she pinpoints the person’s shadow. She can’t see him, but his shadow is long and it bends over each stick, stone and blade of grass it lies on. His shadow is holding a big stick. What does he want?

“Who’s there?”

_No one,_ she thinks, shaking her head.

The shadow moves. “Who are you?”

Risking looking away, she turns her head around. _Who is he talking to?_

“Uh, I’m talking to you. Wherever… _who_ever you are,”

She blinks. _How can he hear me… mindreader?_

“I can hear you because you’re talking out loud.”

“I’m what?” She says, surprised, only hearing her voice now.

Each footstep making rocks and bark crunch together, the stranger comes closer.

Quickly sucking in a breath, she stumbles backwards, dropping the rest of the rocks and falling off the log. Landing on the mossy ground with a thump, she clamps her hands over her mouth. _Don’t make a noise. He can’t find you down here._

A head comes into view. “Yes I can,”

_God damn._

It’s not a bad head, she concludes. Nice and round like a head should be. Covered with curly brown hairs that curl up around his ears. There’s a small trail of dead leaves that she doesn’t think he’s noticed tangled in those curls. His skin - a little bit grimy, but nevertheless clear - is lighter than his hair. She watches his mouth as it moves before registering he is talking to her.

“What?”

He sighs. “I said, are you Astose?”

Her mouth goes dry. _It’s… It’s been a while since I’ve heard that name._ “Who are you?”

“My name is Geflet,” the boy says. He holds out a hand to help her up.

She stares at it. The moisture from the soil around her has soaked into her clothes - she’ll have to sleep in wet rags again tonight. Wet rags. Hm.

Geflet doesn’t move his hand. He’s looking at the lady - Astose - with a little bit of concern.

“What?” She says. “What’s it in my face for?”

He moves his head slightly to the right. “To help you up. Take my hand,”

“Take my hand!” A little, glowing girl shouts, pained.

Astose looks up at her.

She’s only a few metres away. An anguished, panicked look on her face. “Astose! Take my hand!!”

Beginning to shake, Astose tries to close her eyes. “I-I can’t,”

The girl’s clothes have smoke curling off them. She’s on the ground, dragging herself towards Astose. “HELP ME!”

“I CAN’T HELP YOU,” covering her face, Astose tries to roll over so that she doesn’t need to look at the girl. “I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY!”

* * *

Geflet slowly lowers his hand, watching as Astose whimpers on the ground. He turns around to see what Astose is pointing to. The forest floor is empty.

_Are you kidding?_ He tries not to get angry. _I’m sent all the way into the forest to find someone and it’s an insane, crazy woman?_

“Look, my lady, I mean no disrespect, but-“ Geflet gasps as she latches on to his arm, pulling him down slightly.

“Do you see her?” She says, no louder than a whisper but with enough force to make Geflet’s blood run cold.

“What?”

“There!” Her pale, crooked finger points to the place that Geflet had looked at before. “Standing right- right there, next to that rock,”

He watches Astose’s face, his unease growing, unsure if this was a joke or not. “There’s nothing there,” he says hesitantly.

“I- what?” Her voice falters, confusion flitting across her face.

Quickly shaking her off, Geflet takes a few steps back and picks up his stuff that he had abandoned a few minutes ago. “Listen, Lady Astose-“

She jerks her head up at the sound of her name.

“I’m not sure what you… but I do know that you need to come with me,”

“Come with you?” She squints, frowning. “Where are we going?”

Inspecting her with unease, Geflet stifles another sigh. “I don’t know if you know anything about the recent events because, well…” he tries not to glance back at the empty spot of ground. “Why don’t we sit down while I explain a few things to you?”


	4. Chapter 4

Pushing back his hair, Rielle follows after Eliaste as she paces away. _Honestly, does she ever stop moving?_ When he finally catches up with her, they’re back in the circular room. From his position, Rielle sees Eliaste lean against the table, smiling at Lyone as she tips various strange-coloured liquids into a small bowl.

He clears his throat and the two women look up. “Merlin almighty, don’t force me to watch my sister ignore me and flirt instead. It’s hard enough being in the same room, let alone being completely disregarded,”

Lyone laughs, but Eliaste turns around and glares at him.

Nonchalant, Rielle strolls into the room. “Brilliant speech, by the way. Now, can I be informed of this plan? I’m very intrigued,”

Lyone glances at Eliaste, signalling for her to explain. Eliaste sighs, covering her annoyance. “Later today we shall set off to the Kingdom where we have associates who will-“

“Yes, yes, travelling important stuff,” Rielle jumps up so that he’s sitting on the table, one leg crossed over the other. His hand knocks over a vial, sending tiny grains of something of a deep brown colour ricocheting around the table. “But where do _I _come in?”

If possible, Eliaste lets out an even longer sigh, muttering things under her breath that are no doubt have no positive light on Rielle. “You’ll be accompanying us, but instead of hiding you will be presenting yourself to the court as a travelling merchant-“

“Merchant?” He interrupts. “Why not something more dashing like a prince?”

Eliaste narrows her eyes, the same striking blue that she shares with Rielle. “Fine. A _prince,_ then. If all goes to plan and you use your charm-“

Rielle winks.

“You will be offered to stay at least a week. During this time, you will need to get close to the princess using your charisma and appeal, as you’ve done the same, aiding us in the past,”

“Perfect,” Rielle grins, rubbing his hands together. “Finally, something I’m good at.”

“You’ll check in with us every night,” Lyone adds, shooing him off the table as she gathers up the stuff he spilled. Her hair falls over her shoulder like a thick black curtain closing at the end of a show. “And we will await your updates. In the meantime, we will continue developing our plan,”

“Wonderful,” adjusting his hair again, Rielle begins walking out. “I’m sure you two will be fine working on that together whilst I go find out where the food is kept in this place,”

“It’s a wonder you can still see your ribcage,” Eliaste retorts distastefully.

Rielle sends her a sarcastic smile. “It helps when you have no available food for days at a time, darling. Your raids aren’t always successful in that department,”

Pretending to focus on her task, Lyone subtly looks up at Eliaste from the corner of her eye.

The other person is quiet for a second before saying, “Well, we’ll have to improve in that department, then,”

Nodding slightly to herself, Lyone turns back to her task.

“Til we meet again, ladies,” Rielle flourishes a hand, waltzing out of the door.

Sighing, Eliaste rubs her face.

“I received the confirmation message from Sir Clauwn about our location within the castle walls,” Lyone says, and Eliaste quickly puts her hands by her side.

“Yes, good,” she nods.

“If we get there at the planned time, the underground passage should be unguarded and we can get through,”

“Should be,” Eliaste says sharply. “We need to know that it without a doubt _is_,”

Lyone nods, fiddling with a ring on her finger. “Yes, however if we run into someone - a palace guard, for example - a simple memory spell would fix our situation with no effort,”

Eliaste presses her lips together, her eyes floating downwards briefly as she thinks. Turning around, she rubs her arms. “I’ll think about it. For now, let us keep our options open and keep an eye on the situation,”

“When are we to leave?”

Tying up her hair with an old ribbon, Eliaste inspects the stone wall. “Better sooner than later. When the morning hits, before the sun rises we shall head off to arrive around midday,” she turns to Lyone again. “Is that alright, my lady?”

“You no doubt know more than I,” Lyone shrugs. “I’ll pack my things,”

Smiling softly, Eliaste nods. “After I’ve completed charting the safest journey, I’ll follow suit. I’m going to tend to my riders, I’ll see you after,”

“Eliaste, before you go?”

Looking back, eyebrows raised, the warrior smiles at Lyone’s hopeful face. Moving swiftly, Eliaste kisses Lyone’s nose, making her laugh. “I’ll see you soon,” Eliaste says as Lyone hooks her arms around the warrior’s shoulders.

“Have fun around the stinky horsemen,”

“Ha, ha,” Eliaste says sarcastically.

She tilts her head. “Make sure you bathe before coming to bed. I don’t need you stinking up the fresh room,”

“So bossy,” says Eliaste, shaking her head.

* * *

Astose gnaws on her fingernails, though there aren’t many left. She tries not to look up at the man.

“So, uh…” he says awkwardly. “Yeah. That’s where our Kingdom’s position is right now,”

_Why do they want me?_

“Sorry?” Geflet’s eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit. “Your- your hand is in front of… I can’t hear you,”

Astose looks up. “Why do they want me?”

Geflet shrugs. “I haven’t been told. Ready to go?” He slings his bag over his shoulder.

“Go?” Astose repeats.

“Yes?”

Tucking up her feet on the log, Astose furrows her pale eyebrows. “I can’t… I can’t just _go,”_

Stifling a sigh, Geflet puts his bag back down. “Why?”

She starts picking at her fingers again. “I… they won’t let me,”

“Well, the King asked for you,” Geflet points out. “If anyone has an issue with it, they can go to him.”

This makes Astose feel the tiniest bit better. Just a bit. “Alright. Let’s go. Can I say goodbye to my cave first?”

“To your- what?” Geflet splutters. He shakes his head. “Fine. Just hurry up,”

Smiling, Astose skips through the earthy soil and gently pats a stone with a pale, bony hand. She squints at her fingers and picks at the corner of her nail. _Goodbye, cave,_ she grins before glaring at a dark corner. “Bad-byes for you, though.”

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

“St-“ Geflet itches to stop the girl from touching her hands. He quickly shakes his head, eyes fluttering closed. “Come on,” he says loudly, and Astose comes skipping over.

“You don’t think I’m important,” Astose says simply as they walk through the thick forest.

Geflet shrugs, picking his way through the various shades of green and brown.

“I have worth, you know.”

“Really?” His eyebrows knit together, thinking about how just a few minutes ago she was cowering on the ground, terrified of something that wasn’t even there. “And what information do _you _have that the King needs?” He ducks under a particularly thick branch.

Astose follows him, though she doesn’t have to duck as far. “I mean, I know where the sorceress Lyone and warrior Eliaste live.”

“You WHAT?” Geflet spins around, his eyebrows up. “HOW?!”

Astose shrugs. “I don’t know. I was just sitting in my cave and they all came past and didn’t really care about me but they were talking about where they were going and there was blue fire and then they walked into a tree and went underground,”

Slowly, Geflet squints. “Seriously?”

“Yup,”

When looking into her face, all Geflet can see is how she hears and sees things no one else can, how she doesn’t realise she’s speaking out loud and how crazy she looks with massive black circles under her eyes. _She’s insane._ “…If you say so, then,”

“I do,”

“Okay,”

They walk in silence, Geflet batting away branches, making sure to cover his eyes in case the small ones whip back at him. Astose tries to start conversation with him multiple times but he tries his best to ignore her.

“Whoah, what’s this place?” Astose’s blue-green eyes are wide, and Geflet could almost see them sparkle.

He walks around to where she’s poked her head through some bushes. “Oh, that’s the village. Uh, Hollin, I think,”

“Can- can we go?”

Geflet furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. “It’s not on the way. Just getting there would take us the rest of the day.”

“We’re in no hurry!” Astose cheers, pushing through the bush with no further warning.

“Wh- Astose, those branches are going to cut you- where are you _going?” _He snaps off a branch with his hand, holding onto his bag as he sidles his way through.

“To Hollin!”

“As- Astose, wait!” Making various noises of frustration, Geflet attempts to run after her.

When he finally catches up, the sun hangs low over the nearing buildings, and everything is starting to turn a different colour as happens at various times in the day. “Astose, slow _down!”_

“Come on, we’re nearly there!”

“We can’t!”

Astose doesn’t slow down. “We can stay the night, it’ll be fun,”

“We can’t,”

“I haven’t been to a village in- well, I don’t know,”

Pressing his hands into his eyes, Geflet quickly shakes his head. “It’s nearly dark and we need to find a place to sleep, so we’ll sleep here. In the village, I mean. In a room,”

“Yes!” Astose cheers.

The village is bustling, signs indicating that an evening market is in session. There are people everywhere.

“Watch it!”

“Half price!”

“Move out the way,”

Phrases are thrown at the duo as the weave through the crowd, Geflet doing his best to keep an eye on Astose, lucky that not many people have her hair colour. Underneath all the dirt, he’s pretty sure she has orange hair, though it’s hard to tell.

“Where do we go first?” She asks, spinning around, a massive smile on her face.

“First?” Geflet repeats. “We’re finding a place to sleep. I haven’t much money, so let us look for a cheaper place,” he looks at Astose out of the corner of his eye. “Can… you read?”

Astose doesn’t answer. She runs up to a sign outside a door. “What about this one?”

“Okay.” Geflet nods before walking inside, looking back to make sure she is following.

If it wasn’t noisy before, it certainly is now, and it’s all so condensed that Geflet just wants to hide.

Beside him, Astose clamps her hands over her ears. “Wow, there are- aren’t there a lot of people, Gifnet? This is more than I’ve seen in- in…” she trails off, but Geflet doesn’t register it.

“Geflet,” he says firmly.

“Yeah, that. Okay, let’s get a room,” she says brightly, switching from troubled to happy with no effort. Shaking his head, Geflet follows her.

A tall, burly man walks up to the duo and Geflet feels himself immediately shrink backwards. “What can I do for you two?” He asks, wiping his hands on his apron. He’s looking at Geflet.

Astose is looking at Geflet.

Geflet swallows and looks around, shaking his hand slightly, rolling back on his heels than to his toes again.

“Well?” The innkeeper says.

“Well-“ Geflet begins. He moves his hand a bit faster and the innkeeper starts staring at it. “You offer rooms,”

“Room?” He repeats, furrowing his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with you, cat got your tongue? And what’s wrong with your hands?”

The other one is flapping too. Geflet needs to get out of here. “You offer rooms,” he says, louder.

“What, are you threatening me?” The innkeeper says angrily.

“You offer rooms,” Geflet looks around, stressed. If he stays here any longer he’s going to… he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Take a bloody room, then,” the Innkeeper ends up saying, shoving him towards the staircase. “Money better be on my table by morning, and I want you gone,”

As Geflet practically runs towards the stairs with Astose close behind him, he hears the innkeeper mutter a word that follows him wherever he goes. “Retard,”

“This is a nice room,” Astose nods, looking around the cramped space, holding a singular set of drawers, a bed and a thin mattress underneath it.

Geflet falls down onto the bed, cradling his head. He shakes it, over and over again.

“What shall we do tomorrow?” Astose asks, looking around the room. She presses her hands against the wall, leaving handprints against the dust. “Do you want to go to the market first or find more sleeping places?”

“I don’t know.” Geflet shakes his head, clamping his eyes shut. “I don’t know. I. Don’t. Know. I don’t know!”

Astose tilts her head and walks closer to the bed. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Don’t come-“ quickly standing up, Geflet steps away from the bed. He closes his eyes.

From the bed, Astose watches quietly. _He’s dancing,_ she says to herself thoughtfully. _Maybe dancing makes him feel better._

Geflet knows he’s not dancing. But he’ll let her think that.


End file.
